Sparkling Tears
by Destiny Kitty
Summary: Harry realized, with a huge shock...that Malfoy was crying. A rewrite of THAT scene but with a happier ending. Spoiler for HBP.


**Disclaimer:** Obviously everything here belongs to JK Rowling. No questions asked.

**Warning:** Spoiler of an awesome scene and some other details, so you should definitely read the book first! And this might be a little fluffy.

**A/N:** I've been disappointed with the way this scene ended I first read it. I felt sooo bad for Draco! He's finally become a comfortingly human character, with his own overwhelming problems and worries. But when Harry barges in on him, he tries to use an Unforgivable Curse (badly, as he's not evil enough to use it properly) and Harry nearly kills him. So of course they hate each other as much as ever, even if Harry is very upset by the whole thing.

Here is more like how I would have liked to see this scene played out. **Everything italicized is straight out of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince**, because I didn't want to rewrite what was already perfect. All I did was change a spell to one more in Harry's character, and let the scene go from there…

**Sparkling Tears, Heartfelt Ties**

_A few days before the match against Ravenclaw, Harry found himself walking down to dinner alone from the Common room, Ron having rushed off into a nearby bathroom to throw up yet again, and Hermonie having dashed off to see Professor Vector about a mistake she thought she might have made in her last Arithmancy essay. More out of habit than anything, Harry made his usual detour along the seventh-floor corridor, checking the Marauder's Map as he went. For a moment he could not find Malfoy anywhere and assumed he must indeed be inside the Room of Requirement again, but then he saw Malfoy's tiny, labeled dot standing in a boy's bathroom on the floor below, accompanied, not be Crabbe or Goyle, but by Moaning Myrtle._

_Harry only stopped staring at this unlikely coupling when he walked right into a suit of armor. The loud crash brought him out of his reverie; hurrying from the scene lest Filch turn up, he dashed down the marble staircase and along the passage below. Outside the bathroom, he pressed his ear against the door. He could not hear anything. He very quietly pushed the door open. _

_Draco Malfoy was standing with his back to the door, his hands clutching either side of the sink, his white-blond head bowed._

"_Don't," crooned Moaning Myrtle's voice from one of the cubicles. "Don't … tell me what's wrong … I can help you."_

"_No one can help me," said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking. "I can't do it … I can't … It won't work … and unless I do it soon he says he'll kill me…" _

_And Harry realized, with a shock so huge it seemed to root him to the spot, that Malfoy was crying – actually crying – tears streaming down his pale face into the grimy basin. Malfoy gasped and gulped and then, with a great shudder, looked up into the cracked mirror and saw Harry staring at him over his shoulder._

_Malfoy wheeled around, drawing his wand. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his own. Malfoy's hex missed Harry by inches; Harry threw himself sideways, thought Levicorpus! and flicked his wand, but Malfoy blocked the jinx and raised his hand for another – _

"_No! No! Stop it!" squealed Moaning Myrtle, her voice echoing loudly around the tiled room. "Stop! STOP!"_

_There was a loud bang and the bin behind Harry exploded; Harry attempted a Leg-Locker Curse that backfired off the wall behind Malfoy's head and smashed a cistern beneath Moaning Myrtle, who screamed loudly; water poured everywhere as Malfoy, his face contorted, cried, "Cruci---"_

"Expeliamus!" _bellowed Harry, waving his wand wildly._

The brilliant spell-light flew straight at Malfoy's hand and he yelped as it rebounded off his wand, projecting the thin branch across the room and through Moaning Myrtle's head to clatter against a far wall. She screeched and dove back into her toilet, splashing even more water on the floor as she swore at Harry.

Harry didn't notice; all his attention on the motionless blond boy he had just disarmed, staring at him with tear-stained eyes as wide as those of an animal caught in the headlights of a Muggle vehicle. The room was silent except for the gush of water and the heavy breathing of the two boys as they faced off. Then gray eyes flicked to the side and Malfoy pelted toward the bathroom door, head down and cheeks flaming.

The floor was too wet, the massive cistern still dumping a flood of cold water over the room. Harry watched Draco slip as if in slow motion, and his brain instinctively went into seeker mode – catch, Catch, CATCH!

Harry dove for the floor, cushioning his fall with his right arm and shoulder as Draco crashed headlong onto Harry's chest. The combined force sent the pair skidding across the slick pool-like floor until they crashed into the closed bathroom doors.

Malfoy was fighting, struggling to push off Harry and get away, but Harry held on tight, knowing he had to stop the blond from running away. He could feel Draco's heart palpitating within his heaving chest, and felt the other boy shaking from the combination of cold, terror and shock. Harry pulled himself into a seated position, heaving up with him his hostile classmate, who suddenly pushed Harry away with enough force that the tousled black-haired head banged against the thick wood doors. Then, burying his face in his thin hands, Malfoy burst into a flood of fresh tears enough to rival the busted piping system.

Arms flopped at his sides and back leaning against the heavy wooden doors, Harry just watched in astonishment, struck dumb even if he could have thought of something to say. Draco slumped over his green-robed knees, sobbing painfully but helplessly as though the breathless cries were tearing at his gut. Harry managed to understand only some of what was gasped out between sobs, a desperate attempt to explain the ludicrously uncharacteristic situation in which the rivals found themselves. "I just can't…and my father…and…he said…"

Harry's mind grated slowly back into gear, still reeling with shock at the current state of affairs – Draco Malfoy crying, sobbing, practically in his lap. Why? Because Draco's father … was in prison. Gone. As Harry's father was gone. Something he wouldn't have wished even on his worst enemy, if of course Voldemort hadn't killed Tom Riddle himself. But Draco still loved Lucius Malfoy; this was something with which Harry, orphaned so long ago, could sympathize.

Harry reached out tentatively, stroking fallen strands of white-blond hair away from Draco's hidden face as his cries grew quiet. When the distressed boy did not immediately jump up or move out of range, he ran a comforting hand over Draco's quivering back. The Slytherin relaxed slightly, then as Harry repeated the motion, sank sideways against Harry's drenched right shoulder.

Now was Harry's turn to freeze, staring blankly at the corner where the castle's magical repair system had finally started patching the spell-busted pipes. Draco Malfoy had been his enemy since before they had set foot inside Hogwarts. But at this moment, he was closer to Draco than he had been since – well, probably since the last time they had tried to kill each other, or played Quidditch.

The blond shifted slightly, digging his shoulder into Harry's as he rubbed his wet eyes. Harry looked down on the fair hair and the pale neck slightly red still from embarrassment. He ran a hand down the green-robed back again. Something was very wrong. Draco was too thin; Harry could feel his ribs, the other boy's shoulder bones where they were jabbing into his side, could see how slender the pale arms were where his emerald sleeves had dragged up. It was no wonder he had been so easily overwhelmed.

Draco was shivering again in the absence of his abrasive tears, leaning weakly against the support of Harry's crimson shoulder. But when Harry moved to wrap his arms around the delicate figure in his lap, Draco's frightened gray eyes were instantly fixed on his face, staring into Harry's green ones.

"Don't worry," Harry murmured soothingly, laying the tense boy's head against his dry left side, settling his arm around the green-clad back and shoulders. He tried to think of what Mrs. Weasley would do if he was upset – leaning comfortably closer, stroking the wet blond hair, speaking soothingly against the other's forehead. "Everything will be fine."

Gaze averted across the room, Draco shook his head. Harry frowned, gently massaging the thin figure again, running his free hand over the bent head, slumped shoulders, bowed back and limp arms until his fingers passed Draco's left elbow and the boy flinched.

Draco turned away from Harry, directing his eyes downward as he rubbed the sore spot on his arm. Then, to leave Harry beyond any shadow of doubt, he began tugging and rolling up the heavy, soaked sleeve of the robe. His frozen fingers scuffled with the dark emerald cloth which was casting strange shadows on his almost white skin. Feeling his smug predictions of earlier that year that Malfoy was a Death Eater turning into cold pitying fear, Harry lent his own anxious, inquisitive fingers to Draco's fumblings.

There it was, the Dark Mark. Harry's mind twisted both triumphant and disappointed as he studied the ugly black snake. The harsh brand stood out painfully stark against Draco's white arm, marring the perfect skin in an eternal scar.

"I … had to. My family … you wouldn't understand." Draco hiccupped, venturing to look up at his old rival. His gray eyes begged eloquently and desperately for forgiveness, pleaded understanding. Harry was disturbed by how broken the once-proud boy seemed by the new overwhelming power having taken over his life, body and soul.

"We'll go to Dumbledore; he'll know what to do. We can fix –" Harry started hopefully, but the other shook his head.

"No, please don't," Draco whispered.

Don't what – tell Dumbledore? Try to fix the problem? … Don't hope?

"Come on, you can't give up!"

Draco blinked, and a stray tear slipped down his cheek. "Just leave me."

"No!"

Those gray eyes were so miserable as the boys stared at one another. Harry knew Draco wouldn't be able to fight back if he forced him get help, but he didn't want to do anything that might make him run away from Hogwarts back to the Death Eaters. There had to be some way to convince him that he could seek help without making more trouble for himself and his family.

"I'm not afraid of him, Draco. I can help. Dumbledore isn't afraid either."

"You should be afraid," the Slytherin murmured, ashamed but insistent.

"Look," Harry countered, growing impatient in the persistent helplessness in the other boy's voice. "He ruined both our families, and I for one am not going to let him get away with that."

"You can't fight him forever."

"No." Harry sighed. "Someday I have to kill him, and I will."

Draco was still, silent, downcast.

"I have to kill him. He's committed too much evil, and hurt too many friends. He killed my parents! I can't just give up and let him stomp out more lives, and you shouldn't either. You know what it's like to loose someone important, don't you?"

The answering nod was almost imperceptible, but Harry knew he was getting his point across.

"Let's go then! We will find a way. I won't let him hurt you or anyone else, so long as I can fight."

Harry got up on his knees, offering a hand to the blond at his side. Draco hesitated for a few more moments, until Harry almost scared that he would refuse, but then lifted his eyes to Harry's once more in an expression of peaceful surrender. The two boys helped each other struggle to their feet, cold and stiff from crouching for so long on the wet floor. Harry ran a hand over his rumpled black hair, knowing it was a total mess by the slight smirk on his companion's face, and grinned.

"Let's go find Dumbledore."

Draco smiled back, genuinely this time, lighting up his recently hopeless face.

They parted, sloshed to where their wands had fallen, and then each looked over his shoulder, instinctively expecting a sneak attack. Green eyes met gray, and they laughed as they scooped the fallen wands out of puddles on the floor, happy not to be fighting each other for the first time. The pair staggered out of the flooded room, shivering and smiling, relieved and hopeful and determined to make amends.

-------------------fin--------------------


End file.
